


the good natured side of a truth

by thegreatpumpkin



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 08:16:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7566886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatpumpkin/pseuds/thegreatpumpkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt: Rog/Ecthelion + places they shouldn't be</p>
            </blockquote>





	the good natured side of a truth

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from calicoprofessor on tumblr, AKA my favorite Rog (I hope I did him justice).
> 
> This version of Ecthelion is much kinder at heart than the version I ship with Glorfindel, but he is still an unrepentant troublemaker.

It was a bright night; the moon was nearly full, the starred sky completely clear, making the neat rows of trees in the orchard seem silver-washed.

Two dark figures sheltered beneath a pear tree, though it wasn't the moonlight they were hiding from. Down at the end of the row, an elf cast in monochrome touched a trailing limb the way one would squeeze a friend's shoulder, in greeting or farewell, before moving along to the next, patting trunks and stroking leaves as he went.

"You know," Rog observed, once he was gone, "this fruit will probably be in the market in two or three days. I'm not sure why we're here."

"That isn't the point," Ecthelion said, stretching up and utterly failing to reach a pear.

"What is the point, precisely?"

"Pilfered fruit tastes sweeter," Ecthelion answered firmly, as if that was all there was to be said on the matter. "Now help boost me up."

Despite his amused skepticism, Rog did so without hesitation. There was a rustling and a shower of leaves—no pears—and a bit of cursing from overhead. "You would make a terrible spy," Rog observed. "If the birds weren't sleeping, you'd have startled them all into flight and announced your location to everyone."

"I'm not—ugh—trying to be secretive, now that—oof!—Galdor's gone." Ecthelion was clearly finding the ascent somewhat challenging. At last he settled in the crook of a sturdy branch, plucking a pear with the intent to toss it down to his partner in crime below.

But there was no sign of Rog. Ecthelion blinked, leaning from his perch to see if he was somehow concealed by the shadows, but to be honest his eyesight was quite sharp and Rog was not exactly inconspicuous. "Rog?" He half-wondered if Galdor had reappeared and necessitated a quick exit; it was difficult to tell from here inside the leaves. " _Rog!_ " he hissed again, scanning the moonlit grass.

"Boo," Rog said dryly, right against his ear. He caught Ecthelion by the waist before he pitched out of the tree—he was standing on a branch below Ecthelion's, and keeping himself in place with a grip on one somewhere above their heads. His deep laughter vibrated against Ecthelion's back as Ecthelion roundly cursed him and his ancestors.

"How did you even—you lightless son of a—"

"Careful, now." Rog leaned forward just enough to make Ecthelion's position precarious again, loosening his hold for a half-second to drive home his point. Ecthelion growled and subsided, though not without a muttered promise to repay him when he least expected it.

"I have no doubt," Rog chuckled. This time he let go in a way less likely to put Ecthelion in conflict with gravity, reaching across him to swipe the pear out of his hand. "This was for me, yes?"

"Only when I thought you couldn't reach one of your own." With prickly delicacy, Ecthelion maneuvered himself around to face Rog, then sat down again so that his knees were to either side of Rog's waist. He eyed the limb Rog was standing on—and Rog's apparent comfort—with deep suspicion. "Bloody Avar. Are you half-tree yourself? There's no way that branch ought to hold your weight."

Rog ignored that, taking a deliberate bite of the pear. It was slightly crisp and just-ripe—perhaps, even, a little greener than its best, but somehow that was part of the delight. He caught a drip of juice with his thumb before it made its way to his chin, licking it off in a very _particular_ way, then grinned at Ecthelion. "You're right. It does taste better when it's stolen."

Ecthelion was too distracted by the image to sulk about his words being turned back on him. He was very predictable that way. He glanced around thoughtfully. "You know, I wonder if a person could—"

"Which person?" Rog took another bite of the pear, chewing slowly, and Ecthelion was arrested by the way he looked in the moonlit dark.

He rallied, with an effort. "Which—You don't even know what I was going to say!"

"I know exactly what you were going to say. You're trying to work out the theoretical possibility of fucking in a tree. So: which person?" Rog smiled slow and cocky, and Ecthelion tried not to stare. " _I c_ ould manage it. _You_ could not."

Ecthelion shook his head to clear it and straightened up, leaning forward in a way that was meant to be intimidating. He was too short to be in Rog's face without Rog bending down to meet him, though, making the gesture singularly ineffective. "I don't even know why I invite you on my adventures. You are a blight, a tribulation, an affliction to my patience—"

Rog snorted with amusement. "The irony of you calling anyone a tribulation."

"I'd call you worse if I didn't think you'd push me out of a tree for it."

"I might yet." Rog laughed again, quietly. "Hush, you love me and you know it."

Ecthelion did not immediately reply. The moment stretched a little too long, and Rog stopped laughing.

"Ecthelion."

Ecthelion's gaze was somewhere off in the dark branches. He started counting.

Before he reached ten, Rog had dropped the half-eaten pear into a pocket and wiped his fingers hastily on his tunic. " _Ecthelion,_ " he said again, catching Ecthelion's chin and turning his face upwards, searching it.

Ecthelion tried. He really, truly _tried_ to hold a neutral expression. But a wicked grin stole through, and then a bark of laughter. “No, I can’t do it, romantic confessions by moonlight are simply beyond me.”

Rog dropped his hand and rolled his eyes skyward.“I should have been suspicious when the endless flow of chatter stopped,” he said, though there was a smile in his voice. “You would never have resisted ruining a genuine declaration of love with a thousand words of grandstanding.”

Ecthelion laughed harder. “I want to defend myself, and yet.”

“You have no grounds whatsoever?”

Ecthelion stole the pear from Rog’s pocket, biting into it with a cheeky grin. “I have to concede that sounds very like me. If ever I were to profess love, I’d surely couch it in so many other words it would slip by entirely unnoticed.”

Rog cleared his throat and held out his hand for the pear, but it was less a genuine demand than part of their game—Ecthelion would never hand it back voluntarily if he thought he could goad Rog into making him instead. Rog leaned into his space, and Ecthelion smirked up at him.

“Speaking of a thousand words, I have a few on the subject of looming. It’s considered uncivilized, you know, and besides it doesn’t work on me because I know well enough to—”

There was really only one way to make Ecthelion stop talking, but fortunately, Rog was quite good at it.


End file.
